A Spring to Remember
by a.m567
Summary: I'm back! This is a story set when the teens are a little older during a spring break. Trixie goes to visit Jim at college, and, well, read to find out! If you want to learn a bit more, read my first author's note. Hope you like it. (It's a humorous romance, so I think you will!)
1. Spring Mix-Up

**A/N** Hey guys. I'm back! Some of you might know me from the story A Bob-White Summer. If you haven't read it, I'd recommend doing so. :) This is another story, which I've written because of many requests for me to write more. It's not anything hard core, just a sweet, fluffy, few chapter fic set when the Bob-Whites are a bit older. You'll know their ages from reading, but I just wanted to say that if you haven't read my other story, you may not get some of the references I've made to 'rules' regarding the romantic relationships featured here. I may make references to my other story, as this is something I've set to be a few years after that one. I also want to tell you that I may not update regularly for this one, like I did for my other one. So don't expect a new chapter- just enjoy it when it comes! :)

Thnx, Ayisha out.

* * *

Nineteen year old Jim Frayne ran a hand through his red hair. Staring down at the papers and text books that littered his desk, he sighed. He needed a break. He glanced out the window of the New York dorm room he shared with Brian Belden. Brian. Jim was seriously regretting not driving up to Sleepyside with the brown-haired med school student. Jim had told him that he couldn't possibly come to spend spring break at home, especially with all the work he had to do. A paper due at the end of the week, the giant project before the end of the term. It was three in the afternoon, and after working non-stop since nine in the morning, he had a serious case of boredom.

There was a knock on the door. Jim got up, puzzled, and walked into the main room of their apartment. When the door opened, he was enveloped by a mass of blonde curls, whose owner threw her arms around the red head. Jim put a hand up on her back to brace himself from the sturdy yet petite blonde, and when she pulled away, her face shone at him.

"Trixie?" he asked in surprise, looking in shock at his seventeen year old girlfriend.

"Surprise!" she exclaimed, beaming. "I came to visit for the spring break." She saw his shocked expression and frowned. "You don't look very happy to see me."

Jim shook his head hurriedly. "No— I'm just surprised." He looked around uncomfortably, running a hand through his red hair.

Trixie didn't seem to notice his anxiety. "Moms and Dad agreed to let me visit for the week. School starts again on Tuesday, so I'm driving back on Sunday."

Jim looked at her curiously. "You drove here by yourself?"

Trixie giggled. "Well, actually, I drove here with your parents. Your dad has business in The City, so they said they'd drive me up here when they were coming."

Jim was surprised at the news. "Are they going to be staying here?" he said, referring to the New York apartment. Mr. Wheeler owned three large apartment suites in the building. The Bob-Whites used them when they came to New York for a vacation a few years ago. Now Brian and Jim used one of the rooms as a dorm.

Trixie nodded. "Your dad went to a meeting and your mom's doing some shopping. They said they'd be back at six and then they were going to take you, me, and Brian out for dinner."

Trixie went and peeped into Brian's room, aware that her eldest brother hadn't come out to meet her.

"Where's Brian?" she asked Jim, who looked increasingly more anxious. "It's Saturday, so he's not in classes. Is he—"

"Trix," Jim interrupted. "That's the thing," he said nervously. "We had no idea you were coming, so Brian was going to surprise you guys by coming home." He watched her expression, which filled with understanding. "He's on the highway already. Probably half-an-hour away from Sleepyside."

Trixie's eyes widened, looking around self-consciously. "So you mean we're…"

"Here alone," Jim finished, putting his hands in his pockets nervously.

The situation dawned on her, and she looked worried. "Daddy is going to be so mad," she said, thinking about her father. "He almost didn't let me come, and he wouldn't have if he didn't think Brian was here."

Jim nodded in understanding, remembering Trixie's father, and how protective he was of his daughter. "We should call him now and tell him before Brian comes, or else…" He didn't have to finish for Trixie to know what he meant. The blonde pulled out her cell phone. "I'll call them first. It'll be easier that way. You should call your parents and tell them," she said.

"Maybe I should call Brian as well," Jim suggested.

Trixie shook her head. "Let's not worry him. I'd hate it if he turned around and came back. I don't want to ruin his spring break because of me."

Jim nodded in understanding. "You're right. I'm sure your parents will tell him, anyways."

Trixie made the call. Just as she hoped, her mother answered.

"Hi, Moms," Trixie said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Hey, Sweetie," her mother answered, her usual cheerful self. "Did you arrive safely?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Trixie said, figuring out how to bring up the subject. "Look, Moms, there's something you should know. I got here… and… well, Jim's here, and he told me that… Brian left this morning to Sleepyside to surprise everyone there." She hurried out the last bit, biting her lip.

There was a small silence on the other side of the phone. Finally, Trixie heard her mother sigh knowingly. "Goodness, Trixie," she said, and Trixie could almost hear her shaking her head. "That's a…" _Problem_, Trixie knew she was thinking, but didn't say it. "I… Well, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler are there, so it's not like you and Jim are entirely alone. Just…" Trixie could hear that her mom was unsure of what to tell her daughter. The situation was so abstract to them both that they weren't sure how to go about it. Her mother sighed. "Trixie, I'm just going to tell you to do what's right. I know you and Jim are both responsible, so I know you won't get into any trouble. Just remember the rules that we laid down before, and…" she struggled to think of something else. "If you need something to do, you always have that homework you brought with you. Maybe Jim could help you with that. That's all I can say to you, but you're going to have to talk with your father." Trixie gulped. Her mother was usually level-headed and calm about everything, but her dad… well, Trixie didn't know what to expect.

She waited for her dad to come on the phone. When he did, Trixie knew immediately that her mom had briefed him on the situation, which Trixie was grateful for.

"Oh, Princess," he breathed into the phone, sounding exasperated.

"Hi, Daddy," she said nervously.

"What are we going to do with this…" he wondered aloud, his head spinning. He sighed, finding his resolve. "Look, honey, I know you're responsible, and so is Jim. Just… don't get into any trouble, okay Pumpkin? I'll call Matt and talk to him as well, but I guess… just be reasonable. Don't… you know what I mean. Follow all of the rules, and…" He sighed once more. "I'll see you at home on Monday. A virgin." Trixie blushed bright red.

"Yes, Daddy," was all she said.

Peter sighed once more. "Okay, put Jim on the phone."

Trixie obediently looked to the red head, who had just finished his call with his parents. She handed him the phone, whispering, "He's more miffed than anything," before watching expectantly as Jim took the call. Trixie couldn't hear what her dad was saying, but she could only guess as she saw Jim pale and flush, getting out the 'Yes, sir's and the 'No, sir's and the 'I will's and 'I won't's.

Finally, he hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. He shook his head, giving Trixie a small smile. "He's going to kill me one of these days," he said, handing over her phone.

Trixie chuckled. "I hope he waits until after the break."

Jim nodded. He nodded his head to the kitchen. "Are you hungry? We have some left over pizza in the fridge, but we can order more if you want. There's some water and some pop there too, if you're thirsty."

Trixie smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I just had lunch. I'll grab some water, though," she said, swinging open the fridge and opening a bottle of water. She took a sip and then left it on the counter top.

Jim grabbed it and took a long sip, and Trixie laughed, gently swatting his arm. "Hey," she protested, receiving a grin.

"What do you want to do?" he asked, gesturing around. "There's not much to do in here, but…"

Trixie smiled, a thought coming to her. "You could always help me with my math homework," she suggested slyly.

Jim seemed to consider it for a moment, then looked at her mischievously. "Maybe," he said. "But I never did get a proper hello."

Trixie smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Hello, James Frayne," she said, and he grinned, fitting his lips against hers.


	2. He's Home, Honey

Another chapter! I wrote this one when I wrote the first one. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Honey sat on her bed, clacking away on the keys of her laptop. She looked beside her, where Di was pasting the title onto their poster. "Trixie's _so_ lucky," Honey commented idly, her mind wandering off as it sometimes did.

Di smiled knowingly. "I'm sure you'd have a great time if you'd got to see Brian."

Honey nodded, thinking wistfully about the eldest Belden. Although they were the last couple to form from the Bob-Whites, their relationship was as strong as ever. The fact that Brian was in college and a few miles away from home wasn't as big of a strain on their relationship as Brian had initially thought it would be. After they had gotten together two years ago, Brian had admitted to her that the reason he had delayed asking her out was that he thought it wouldn't be fair to Honey to have a long distance relationship. Honey had assured him that it was perfectly fine with her. And honestly, she didn't mind it, except sometimes when he had to stay at NYU over a long weekend because of his projects.

The past two years, it hadn't been very hard to have a relationship with Brian. It was actually the best two years of her life. But this year, Brian had started med school, and came home less often than usual. She loved it when he did manage to come home, but sometimes the periods between seemed to last too long. But, she reflected, her parents _had_ warned her about the qualms of dating an older boy. Brian and she had the largest age difference from any of the Bob-White couples. Compared to Di and Mart's one year apart and Jim and Trixie's two, the three year span between her and Brian sometimes seemed quite large. Neither of them had minded a bit, until Brian turned twenty a few months ago and she realized quite how old he was compared to her. She often worried that he wouldn't want to continue being with someone so much younger than him, especially now that he was at that age and she knew there were things that she couldn't give him, but he always assured her that he loved her regardless of her age. And she believed him. She just couldn't help but think about it.

"If only we didn't have this stupid project then I could've gone with Trixie," Honey said, and Di looked protectively at their neat, well-crafted poster board, picking it up and hugging it to her.

"Don't talk that way about my baby," she said.

Honey laughed, and was going to say something more but was stopped by a knock on the door. "Come in," she called.

Miss Trask appeared in the threshold, smiling. "Hello, girls," she greeted, eyes shining with the news to be delivered.

"Hi, Miss Trask," the girls chorused, both curious as to what the governess had to tell them.

"I just came up to tell you that someone is here to see you." She smiled mischievously.

"Oh, who is it, Miss Trask?" Honey asked eagerly.

The governess smiled. "You'll just have to come down and see, Honey," she said, and left before the girls could ask anything else.

Di was first to look out the window, and upon seeing the familiar blue jalopy that hadn't been home since Christmas, smiled with the same conspiratorial glimmer as Miss Trask.

Honey was just about to look out the window as well, her curiosity getting the better of her, but Di gently turned her around before she could. "No way, Hon. You go down and see whoever it is for real." The honey-haired girl was miffed, but seeing that Di wouldn't give up from blocking access to the window, she raced downstairs instead.

When she reached the bottom of the steps, her heart leaped into her throat and she threw herself into Brian's arms, her lips finding his immediately.

Di came downstairs a few seconds after the exuberant brunette, and upon seeing the couple in a passionate lip-lock, rolled her eyes. She reached the bottom of the steps and cleared her throat, hating to ruin Honey's moment but at the same time amused to do so. When the couple reluctantly broke a part, she said, "I know you guys are seeing each other for the first time in months, but would it hurt if I told you to get a room?"

Brian grinned at her. "This is a room," he reasoned, and when his brother's girlfriend rolled her eyes, he greeted her with a hug.

"I hope life hasn't changed too much lately," Brian mused, looking at both girls questioningly.

"Not too much, no," Honey said, still smiling in the face of the eldest Bob-White.

"Have you visited Crabapple Farm yet?" Di asked him.

He nodded. "I was just over there." His expression turned a bit confused when he thought about the news his parents had given him. He was hoping to surprise them, but when he got there, he found out that they had heard of his early arrival. At least Honey was surprised.

Both girls noticed his change of expression. "What is it?" Honey asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Brian shook his head. "Just something my parents told me when I got back home. About Trixie."

Honey's eyes widened, coming to the conclusion all on her own. "If you're here, then that means that you're not there."

Brian laughed. "Yes, Honey, it means I'm not there." He sobered. "Dad seemed pretty upset about the whole thing. He said the only reason he let Trixie go in the first place was because he thought I'd be there. But I'm not, so…"

Di shook her head. "That's classic."

Honey and Brian nodded in agreement. Honey smiled a little, thinking of her brother and best friend. "I'm sure Trixie and Jim can behave themselves."

Di snorted, something she didn't do often. "Let's hope."

Honey laughed a little. "I'm sure Jim will be as honourable as always."

Brian shrugged. "Let's hope," he agreed with Di.

Di smiled conspiratorially, looking between her two friends. "They're not the only ones that we should hope behave themselves."

The couple in question flushed. Honey looked at her friend, knowing how to tease her back. "Well, Mart and Dan are also home from college as well," she said slyly, watching her fair friend flush.

Brian put an arm around Honey's waist. "Moms wanted me to tell you guys to come over for dinner tonight. She said she made a roast, and we aren't going to eat it all ourselves."

Di giggled. "You never know with Mart."

The Bob-Whites laughed, and the girls soon agreed that they could spare some time from their work to go back to Crabapple Farm for a visit.


	3. I See Peter Was Right

Here you go- another chapter. One note- how come I got two follows, two favourites, and 0 reviews? (Not that I'm ungrateful or anything- you guys are the best.) I love hearing what you think about it. :)

-A

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Back in New York, Jim forgot everything about his projects. Well, at one point he did remember it, but that was before he was engaged in the scene we are now witnessing. And in case your vision of the scene isn't as sharp as mine, I'll perhaps describe it for you.

First, some background information. After saying hello, using their mouths in more ways than just to utter words, they sat on the couch, and Jim demanded to know every detail of what changed since his last visit to Sleepyside, which, although sooner than Brian's, happened at the end of January. Trixie told about how the cherry blossoms were just starting to bloom. She also told about how school was as demanding as ever, and by the time spring break came along, she and the rest of the female Bob-Whites had almost had enough. Jim joked that she was probably looking forward to getting back to her math. On the topic of spring break, Trixie also told how Honey and Di had a project that they were doing for extra credits for their diploma, so Honey couldn't come to New York with Trixie, something that both girls were looking forward to. Jim chuckled, commenting on how the whole ordeal worked out, because Brian ended up going to see Honey instead of the other way around. The comment led to a shy note by Trixie on the fact that it had left them alone, and the look Jim gave her(which no longer can be considered 'fond') caused the scene that I am about to describe. (Just don't tell them we were watching.)

Careful to remember her father's rules, and so remained in the living room (which had neither a bed nor a shower) Trixie was perched on top of Jim, who lay on his back on the couch. The sofa might as well have been made for that sort of thing, because it had no arms- simply a pillow that Jim's head sat on, so if someone too tall lay on it, their feet would simply hang over the end. But Jim didn't have that problem. If he did, though, I don't think either of them would have minded. (I'm pretty sure if Peter Belden thought about couches like that he would have added them to the list of things Jim and Trixie aren't allowed alone in a room with.)

There needs to be a term stronger than 'kissing' to describe exactly what was happening. I don't think 'making out' does it either. Whoever invented these words obviously hadn't met Jim and Trixie. Trixie's hands ran through the thick red hair on top of Jim's head, and _his_ hands… well, let's say they didn't stay any place for long.

You'd be surprised by how much time can pass in such a position, and how blissfully unaware they were of it. So when there was a loud knock on the door, which was loud because of the first few times when the quieter knocks weren't heard, Trixie pulled away, and both of them groaned at the exact same time. Trixie unattached herself from him, and out of curiosity, Jim checked his watch. His eyes widened when he did so, an incredibly un-honourable word exiting his mouth. Trixie answered the door just in time for Jim to realize that it would be his parents at the door, and they would no doubt notice every little thing; the fact that their hair was messed up, their lips swollen, cheeks flushed, their clothes wrinkled, and both of them out of breath and not in the least ready for dinner.

Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler stood there before Jim could tell Trixie who it was. Jim ran a hand through his red hair, and struggled to look at his father's face. When he did, Matthew Wheeler's expression showed complete understanding and amusement, the same as his wife.

"I see Peter was right," was Mr. Wheeler's only comment before Trixie stumbled out something about losing track of time and hurried passed them to her room across the hall.

When she was out of sight, Matthew looked questioningly at his son, raising his eyebrow before chuckling and shaking his head. "At least you still have all your clothes on." Jim flushed, and Matthew slapped him on the back, telling him to change for dinner.

When Jim's door closed, Matthew exchanged looks with his wife, and then they both chuckled. "I suggest we don't tell Helen or Peter," Madeleine said. Matthew agreed.

* * *

R&R - Please.


	4. Double Dinner

Un autre chapter. I hope you enjoy. :)

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In her room, Trixie put a hand on her head once she had shut the door promptly behind her, smiling to herself and thinking about the time she had spent in Jim's room. Had they really been… doing what they were doing for _three hours?_ The thought seemed so far away to Trixie as she walked to the mirror. She looked as disheveled as they come: hair ruffled, blouse wrinkled. Only her jeans seemed to be in wearable condition, but she knew that if she wore jeans to dinner, her mother, even though miles away, would shake her head.

So instead, some part of Trixie thought about wearing a skirt, and although she had many that covered her knees, something about the last few hours she had spent with Jim caused her to slip on a creamy brown one that ended just above her knees. She slipped into a pair of navy and brown flats- one of the few things that she had agreed with her mother to buy. Her mother thought they looked perfectly elegant, but Trixie had her own reasons. It just so happened that the flats went perfectly with the sweater of hers that Jim loved. She slipped the thin, navy blue sweater over her head and ran a quick brush through her hair. For some completely unknown reason, it had accumulated quite a few tangles that hadn't been there a few hours ago.

When she opened the door to leave the room, she found the Wheelers standing outside of Jim's door, having just knocked. She gave them a small, embarrassed smile, and they had the good grace to not bring up anything that had happened before, even though the amusement still showed a little on their faces. When Jim came out, in a jeans and button down, Trixie's heart leaped in her chest, although she didn't meet his eyes, which, if she had bothered to look, she'd have noticed trailed down her from head to toe appraisingly.

When his parents were safely ahead of them as the group walked to the elevator, Jim took her hand and whispered into her ear, "You wore that on purpose."

Trixie tried to hide her smile and blinked innocently at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

When the group made it to the main lobby of the apartment complex, Mr. Wheeler turned to the couple. "What do you feel like having for dinner, Trixie?"

Trixie smiled bashfully. "Oh, I'm good with anything, thanks."

Mr. Wheeler smiled. "Oh, come on," he appealed. "You've been working so hard at school, at least tell us what you want to have for supper."

Trixie shook her head. "You should ask Jim; he's the one who's been working hard, even through spring break."

Jim squeezed her hand, about to protest, when some friends of his parents came up to say hi.

Jim and Trixie waited, not impatiently, as the two groups had a conversation, evidently about business matters.

"Seriously," Jim said quietly into Trixie's ear, "What do you want to eat, Shamus?"

"Anything," she said again, head swimming at Jim's proximity, his breath tickling her ear.

Once the Wheelers turned their attention back to the couple, the group, finally finding it clear that the young adults were too polite to suggest anything, decided on Italian.

* * *

At Crabapple Farm, as the group was laughing and talking as they set the table for dinner, Honey felt a pang of nostalgia. She remembered the summers of past years, and springs and falls and winters too, where she and her closest friends would talk and laugh and eat; and although she enjoyed herself now, she knew that she was growing up, and that her friends were too. Mart and Dan and Brian and Jim were all at college, and sometimes, when it was just the girls, they all wished for it not to be.

But Honey could appreciate now. The only ones missing for it to be a perfectly perfect dinner at Crabapple Farm were Trixie and Jim, but she was sure she could still enjoy herself. She couldn't believe that in a few months, she'd be done high school, and she, Di, and Trixie would be off to university.

Just as she finished taking a salad to the table, her head occupied with thoughts, Honey felt arms snake around her waist. She smiled to herself as Brian rested his head in her shoulder. "What are you thinking about, Hon?" he asked.

"Just remembering how old we all are," she said, and Brian sighed in agreement.

"It's funny how time flies, isn't it?" he commented, and Honey nodded solemnly, turning around to face her boyfriend.

"High school's almost done, you and the rest of the boys are in college…"

Brian chuckled. "You sound like a mother."

Honey rolled her eyes, and was about to put her lips to his when Mart passed his brother a basket of rolls for him to put on the table, having exchanged an amused look with his mother.

Di laughed at the miffed look on Honey's face when Brian left her to put the basket on the table. "Wait till after dinner," she told her friend as she passed with a pitcher of iced tea.

Honey smiled grudgingly and took the gravy from Mrs. Belden, smiling to herself. _We might be growing up, but we're still having as much fun as ever._

* * *

"Thanks for dinner, Mr. Wheeler," Trixie said gratefully as the group sat in the car, still laughing from the quick walk from the restaurant to the car in the pouring rain.

"No problem, Trixie," he said, starting the car. "I just hope you're not too wet."

Trixie's damp curls stuck to the sides of her face as she leaned against Jim in the back seat.

"I think we're all too wet," Mrs. Wheeler said, laughing.

Jim nodded in agreement. "Next time remind me to bring an umbrella." He rested his head on Trixie's, smiling as he watched her pick strands of hair off of her wet forehead.

When they got back to the luxury apartment, Mr. Wheeler insisted on buying the group coffees from the little café in the lobby. So, although a little wet, Jim, Trixie, and Mrs. Wheeler took seats on some couches on either side of a coffee table.

Jim and Trixie sat across from Mrs. Wheeler, and Mrs. Wheeler had surreptitiously chosen to sit on the side that had two arm chairs, leaving the couch open for Jim and Trixie, who sat with Jim's arm around her shoulders and her head against him.

When Mr. Wheeler came back, putting the hot drinks on the table, the conversation they began was about home, and how soon the girls would be done high school.

Trixie, Honey, and Di were all going to NYU- they'd applied and already signed up for their classes. Trixie and Honey, still driven to found their detective agency, were taking some courses on law, while Di was majoring in arts.

Mr. Wheeler had joked that if all of the Bob-Whites had been going to NYU (as Mart and Dan weren't) then they'd all be able to stay in the apartments. He knew as well as the rest of them, Bob-Whites, parents and all, that because they wanted everyone to focus on their studies, Trixie, Honey and Di wouldn't be staying in the apartment with Jim and Brian. (Something Peter Belden was very relieved about.)

The girls had all found a dorm right by the campus that they'd share. Trixie and Honey had also gotten internships at the Sleepyside Police Station lined up for the summer, Honey as a secretary, and Trixie shadowing a forensics officer, something she was extremely excited about. Di had also gotten a summer job, working at one of Sleepyside's day cares. Because, although being very interested in being a flight attendant, she also had a growing love for children.

By the end of the night, Jim and Trixie finally retired to their rooms, while Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler said they were going to stay downstairs for a while. Mr. Wheeler had looked at them both mischievously and told them to make sure they go to their _own_ rooms, and both teens blushed red before going upstairs.

Once they were standing outside their rooms, Jim's arms snaked around Trixie's waist, pulling her close. "Too bad it's so late," he mumbled, his forehead resting against hers.

"It's only quarter to twelve," Trixie said, and Jim chuckled.

"Only."

Trixie put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her thumbs into the skin of his neck. "Are you tired?" she asked.

"A little," he replied. "You?"

"A little." She put her hands around his neck, drawing his lips to hers. They would've staid like that for quite a while, but the elevator sounded, and they broke apart, watching as a group of people that weren't Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler pass by, going the opposite direction from them.

When the rowdy group was out of sight, both of them sighed. "It's getting late," Jim said, and Trixie nodded, looking at him regretfully.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, and he nodded, giving her one last lingering kiss.

"Night, Trixie," he said quietly, watching as she uttered her farewells and entered her room, leaving him behind in the hallway.

He sighed. _Don't worry, Frayne_, he told himself. _You've got a whole week._


	5. Shopping!

Hey guys. More updates! I just wanted to dedicate this chapter to Amybf19, who's last review left me warm and fuzzy. And also, I wanted to know if you guys had any ideas for the rest of the story. They have a week together, so... I don't do lemons, and I don't think that's the direction I want to go with this. I haven't planned this to be a mystery fic, but if enough people wanted one I could make it work. :)

* * *

The next morning, Mr. Wheeler had business in town he needed to attend to, so Mrs. Wheeler had decided she was going to take Trixie shopping. So, despite Trixie's polite (yet sincere) protests, both ladies ended up in one of New York's big malls, which, although not in the vicinity of Brooklyn, like their apartment by the university, was still a short enough drive.

Part of Trixie's reluctance was not that she didn't have money- her parents had given her one hundred dollars for the trip and Mrs. Wheeler would insist on purchasing anything she wanted, but that she had wished to spend more time with Jim. _At least he'll be able to do some work without me distracting him_, Trixie thought, hoping it would be enough of a consolation to fuel her for the day. With a certain mischievous notion, she added, _If he gets his work done today, he won't have to feel guilty about spending time with me tomorrow._

Trixie tried to clear her growing girlish thoughts as she and Mrs. Wheeler walked through the store and boutiques. She thought about things she should get. Her mother gave her some extra money, as she had wanted Trixie to buy her a dress. Trixie had been nervous, knowing her taste wasn't the greatest, but Helen obviously wasn't trusting her daughter to go at it blindly; before Trixie left, she'd shown Trixie a picture of the dress she wanted her daughter to buy for her (as the sales in New York City were much better than those in Sleepyside) along with information on sizes and what store to buy it from.

Once she had done her shopping for her mother, which Mrs. Wheeler was eager to be part of, Trixie sat on the couches in one of the department stores outside the dressing rooms, helping Mrs. Wheeler decide on the dresses she was trying on. Trixie hadn't thought she'd enjoy the task, but found that she actually didn't mind it, and it turned out that spending the time with Mrs. Wheeler was quite enjoyable. So after the whole morning of picking and choosing over a dozen dresses: the lace on that one looks tacky, that one matches your eyes better than the other, that colour doesn't look good with my hair, etc. etc., it had finally boiled down to two.

Mrs. Wheeler held up a pretty, shiny white one with ruffles and a deep satin maroon one with a matching jacket. Trixie assured Mrs. Wheeler that she would look gorgeous in either of them, but Madeleine still insisted on hearing the young blonde's opinion.

When Trixie finally relented and selected the white one, Mrs. Wheeler gave her a relieved smile. "I was thinking the same thing. I just wanted to get a second opinion."

And so the dress was bought, and just in time for lunch. Mrs. Wheeler took Trixie to a little café in more secluded section of the mall, which she assured made the best soup and paninis she'd ever had. The cheesy grilled bread with fresh basil and tomatoes and creamy mushroom soup didn't disappoint, and Trixie couldn't help but think of Mart as she indulged.

When they were done, and Trixie had thanked Mrs. Wheeler for lunch, Mrs . Wheeler said, "Now, Trixie, it's your turn. Is there anything you came here for?"

Trixie smiled. "Oh, no, I don't need anything, thanks."

Mrs. Wheeler smiled at the young blonde. "You've been suffering through my shopping the entire morning, so at least let's get you _something._ A new dress, new shoes?"

They passed a bright pink and black store, and Mrs. Wheeler raised her eyebrows mischievously. "New underclothes?"

She and Trixie laughed, and despite the fact it had only been a joke, the women went into the lingerie store anyway. The mall was crowded, as it was a Sunday afternoon, and so when Trixie and Mrs. Wheeler joked around quietly, no one paid them any mind.

Mrs. Wheeler held up lacy black panties. "How about these, Trixie," she suggested, and Trixie blushed, shaking her head with a giggle.

"I don't see the point in wearing fancy underwear. Who's going to see them?"

Mrs. Wheeler hid her smile as she laid them down. "Well, sometimes it just makes you feel a little extra special if you're wearing something pretty underneath."

Trixie shrugged. She had one or two nice looking bras, but that was about it.

Trixie picked up a tiny pink thong. "I don't understand how people wear these things."

Mrs. Wheeler laughed. "I'm with you there, Trixie."

When they moved on to the next pile of undergarments, Mrs. Wheeler held up a lacy pink and black bra with a bow in the middle. "Oh, this is pretty." She checked the size and nodded. "It's perfect." Then she slung it over her arm.

"What size are you, Trixie?" she asked, looking through more of the lacy brasserie.

Trixie blushed, and Mrs. Wheeler smiled knowingly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I just thought we'd find you something."

Trixie smiled. "Thanks, but I don't need to get anything."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Wheeler said, shaking her head. "Every girl needs at least one pretty set of underwear."

She sounded so persuasive that Trixie gave in. By the time they were done, the giggling females had spent around half-an-hour in the lingerie store, and came out with petite, clandestine black and pink bags with hot pink tissue paper.

At around six o'clock, after shopping, shopping, coffee and, well, more shopping, the girls made their way back to the apartments. Trixie had purchased, along with her mother's dress and the underclothing, a new pair of sandals, a few nice blouses that were on sale, and a skirt that Mrs. Wheeler insisted on buying for her. As a gift, she had put it.

When the ladies reached their floor, they found Jim and Mr. Wheeler standing in the hallway just outside their room.

"Well it's about time," Mr. Wheeler said, giving his wife a peck on the lips.

"We didn't take that long," Mrs. Wheeler said, putting her bags down. Mr. Wheeler took a long look at the bags.

"Did you buy up the whole mall?" he asked, shaking his head in wonder.

"Only half of it," Trixie joked, kissing Jim hello. She too put her bags down, but they weren't as numerous as her shopping companion's.

Mr. Wheeler was still looking at all of the bags. His eyes caught on the bright pink and black one and twinkled mischievously. He picked it up by the pink straps and was about to look inside when his wife slapped his hand, taking the bag away.

"Hey," he protested. "I just wanted to know what was inside."

Mrs. Wheeler rolled her eyes. "It's a secret."

Jim shook his head. "I've always wondered what they manage to fit in those things." His eyes caught on a similar black and pink bag at Trixie's feet. He raised an eyebrow. "You got one too, huh?" He picked it up, but Trixie snatched it away.

"Nuh-uh, Jim Frayne," she said, blushing.

Jim caught his dad's eye and exchanged a look of male wonder. Matt shrugged. "I guess you'll find out soon enough," he hinted mischievously, causing Trixie to blush and Mrs. Wheeler to admonish her husband.

"Well, I'm going to change for dinner," Mrs. Wheeler said, taking some of her bags and going into her room. When she was out of earshot, Mr. Wheeler gave teens a '_Can you believe her?'_ look, taking the rest of the bags and closing the door to his room behind him, leaving Jim and Trixie in the hall alone.

"So did you have fun shopping?" Jim asked her wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

"I actually had a good time," Trixie replied. "Did you have fun studying?"

Jim smiled. "At least I got some work done. I only have a little more of my paper to do, and my project's all planned out and stuff, so I just have to put it together."

"That's good," Trixie said, smiling mischievously. "So does that mean you can spend the day with me tomorrow and we won't feel guilty about it?"

Jim grinned, and Trixie realized how close his lips were to hers. "If you want to spend the day with me," he replied, and Trixie's head was swimming.

She only managed a little "yes," before her lips touched his, her hands twining around his neck.


	6. Harder and Harder

Here's another chapter. I was away this week, so sorry for the long update time. I hope this chapter satisfies all of the BrianxHoney fans out there. :)

-A

* * *

_That night at Crabapple Farm…_

Honey was frustrated. As she looked into the mirror, she thought about how unfair her life was. She had just spent the last stimulating hour working with Di on their project, which was not even half done. _Di_ had gone home; Mart had picked her up. Who _knows_ where they were now? Honey sighed, thinking about how lucky her friends were. Di and Mart spent so much time with each other, and Trixie and Jim were in New York together without the rest of the Bob-Whites. It seemed like she and Brian hadn't spent _any _time together. Sure, last night at Crabapple Farm had been great. Spending time with everyone was as amazing as always. And when it rained after, Brian held an umbrella over their heads and walked her back to Manor House before kissing her good night. Then he regretted not taking his car instead as he had to walk home in the pouring rain. It seemed like last night was the only time that they'd actually had alone since he'd came back, while the rest of the Bob-White couples had had numerous moments to themselves. She hadn't even seen Brian all day, because of her project and because Brian had something to do with his car or driver's license or something.

Honey cast a look at her bed, knowing she should probably sleep, even though she didn't want to. She _wanted_ to spend time with Brian, but that wasn't going to happen.

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door, which brought her out of her reverie. It took her a moment to process who she was looking at when she opened the door, because it was really too good to be true.

"Um, hi Brian," she said, wondering why he was here but at the same time not caring at all.

"Hey, Hon," he greeted. He smiled at her, but looked disappointed. "I was actually wondering if you wanted to go out to ice-cream or something, but it looks like you were about to sleep, so…"

Honey smiled at the thought of going out to ice-cream, but then realized that Brian thought he had interrupted her. "Oh, no— I wasn't sleeping. I was trying to, but I really can't."

Brian smiled. "I know the feeling."

Honey looked into the hallway before holding the door open shyly. "Um, we can't just talk in the hallway."

Brian nodded before taking a few steps into Honey's room and closing the door slightly behind him, putting his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. "Um, Wimpy's closes at eleven thirty, and it's eleven now, so…"

Honey nodded, but wasn't really paying attention to that. She noticed how she and Brian were in her room together, alone, and her heart beat more than it should. She knew that Brian was nervous too, because he was shuffling around, not looking at her directly. That's when Honey realized she was wearing nothing but a thin nightgown and a pair of panties. Her face flushed.

"Um, we probably won't make it to Wimpy's before it closes, so…" Brian looked around before awkwardly reaching for the door, but Honey, driven by some mad urge to finally spend time with Brian, grabbed his hand.

"Don't go," she pleaded softly, and was gratified when she saw on his face that he absolutely didn't want to go, but thought he had to. She saw that indecision, about whether it would be proper if he stayed, because like her the only thing he wanted was the person standing in front of him and he wasn't sure if he would be able to contain himself.

But obviously desire won over as he nodded and pushed the door closed, reaching out an arm and pulling her in. "Honey," he moaned against her cheek, and her arms twined around his neck and brought his lips to hers, and their movements were fast, too fast, and somehow Brian collapsed on the bed, Honey on top of him, and even though in the back of both of their heads it said to stop, neither of them stopped. And Honey pushed down, trying to get even closer even thought there was no closer, and her hands went under the fabric on his chest, because his jacket had been thrown away a while ago, and her slightly cool hands on his warm chest were enough to make Brian's hands on Honey's back travel lower, and Honey gasped involuntarily, but assured him it was okay by kissing him harder, and so under the nightgown the hands went, up and up and up until the dress was above her belly. And, much to Honey's pleasure, the cool hands splayed against her back held her to him, and then the hands went higher but then seemed to think better of it and went back down. He couldn't stop the hands from resting on her bare back. And he knew, and it drove him crazy, that there was nothing on it. And he could feel it to, as she pressed against him, and it took all his power to not bring his hands where he wanted them.

And they stayed, kissing and touching and moaning little words of love and pleasure and neither of them cared that Wimpy's had long since closed. And finally, when they were both tired, with brains too muddled for any serious thinking, they both fell asleep.

* * *

Brian awoke to find a body lying beside him and brown hair splayed around him. He remembered last night and paled, wondering what time it was. He couldn't believe he fell asleep. Casting a glance outside, he felt relief in the fact that the sun was only just rising.

Slowly, he unstuck himself from Honey, letting her head fall onto the pillow. He looked at her fondly, and gave her a little kiss on the head, stroking her hair back. Then he left the room, wincing as the door creaked, and was extremely glad to know that the front door was unlocked, because if he unlocked it and left, he wouldn't be able to lock it again. He silently started his car, tonight wishing that he _hadn't_ brought it while last night he wished he had.

It rumbled down to Crabapple Farm, where the silent farmhouse looked as peaceful as ever. The only thing that broke the silence was a figure creeping toward the front door and the slight jingle of keys. Brian got out of the car and joined the figure as they both went to into the kitchen.

"Just get back?" Mart asked him quietly, taking out a glass from the cupboard.

Brian nodded. "Didn't you take Di back home?"

Mart flushed, not answering him until he had filled himself a glass of milk. "Her parents weren't expecting her home until today, so…"

Amusement flashed on Brian's face, but he knew that he shouldn't be talking, as he had fallen into the same situation.

Mart read his mind, studying his face and disheveled appearance. "You fell asleep?" He raised an eyebrow. "Did you guys—"

"No," Brian assured hastily, running a hand through his hair. "We didn't. You?"

Again Mart flushed, but shook his head. "We didn't either."

Brian sighed, having long ago decided with his brother that they were the only ones that could confide in each other, because Dan wasn't in the same situation and Jim was dating their sister. "It's just getting harder and harder, isn't it?" he asked, and Mart nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

Mart clapped his older brother on the shoulder, putting his cup in the sink. "Harder and harder." He went upstairs, steps creaking after him, leaving Brian to sit in the kitchen and think.


	7. And Now to Do the Dusting

Don't hurt me, please. I'm so sorry for not updating, but with school starting and all I really had no time. This chapter was kind of fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it. :)

And just to let you know, you should read my other stories if you haven't. Please? They're pretty good.

-A

* * *

After falling into the same trap that had accidentally befallen them the day before last, Trixie's head lay in Jim's lap as he stroked through the now tangled curls. Both breathed heavily, their faces flushed.

Seeing Jim's eyes on her, Trixie reached up and stroked his face. He smiled. "At least this time we managed to stop by our own accord."

Trixie blushed. "But it's only four. We have two hours."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "You mean you didn't want to stop?"

Trixie's face turned even redder. "No— yes— I mean…"

Jim laughed, causing her to frown at him. "I know what you mean, Shamus." He bent down and gave her a kiss, which, for some reason, melted away the frown.

It was quiet for a moment, and everything was perfectly comfortable, until Jim casually suggested, "We could play a game."

Trixie hid her smile. "What kind of game?"

Jim shrugged. "Any kind of game."

A small chuckle passed Trixie's lips. "Well, I know what Dan would say."

Jim grinned. "Truth or dare, Trixie?"

Trixie hid a mischievous smile. "Truth."

Jim considered it for a few moments before answering. "What are you planning on doing this whole week you have in New York?"

Trixie laughed a little. "You waste your truth on that? You could have just asked me."

Jim leaned in closer so his breath tickled her nose. "But I meant honestly."

Colour flushed into her face as her eyes floated down to the lips that were so close to hers. "Spend time with you," she managed to say, but it only came out as an inaudible whisper before her lips met his, and they were still wet from before.

Knowing that they would get as far as they had before, Trixie reluctantly broke away to answer his question. "Honestly?"

"Honestly." His breath was hot and close and smelt like mint.

"Distract you from your studying," she answered before kissing him softly.

And the way things went from there, you could say she did a pretty good job of it.

* * *

Helen Belden put a fair hand on her forehead. Two years ago, she's thought that perhaps in a couple years her rambunctious six year old would be easier to handle. Boy was she wrong. "Robert Belden!" she called tiredly up the stairs. "For the last time, come down and eat your lunch."

"But Moms!" The curly blonde whirlwind whined when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm not done 'sploring!"

Helen sighed. "What could you possibly be exploring in a house this size?"

A sly grin popped onto his freckled face. "It's a secrud."

Helen narrowed her eyes. "Where's Mart? I thought he was supposed to be watching you."

Bobby scratched his head. "Well, Mart said he'd turn round' a blind pie if I'd let him alone."

Helen didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "Do you mean he'd turn a blind eye if you left him alone?"

Bobby nodded vigorously. "That's it. 'Cept he said it was a secrud."

Helen momentarily put her head in her hand. She sighed. "Come on Bobby. Eat your sandwich and you can tell me all about it."

He grinned. "Is it cheese?"

Helen smiled. "It's grilled, too."

As Bobby ate his sandwich, Helen ran a wet cloth over the table. She looked around. She had to finish sweeping, do the dusting, and bake the pie she'd promised Mart. _And_ she had to do the laundry. She sighed. Where was her daughter when she needed her? Helen smiled slightly as she answered the question herself. Her daughter was in New York with the boyfriend she was head over heels in love with.

The thought kept her occupied as she finished wiping the counter tops. That moment two years ago when her daughter came into her bedroom to ask her if she could date someone was still as fresh in her head as ever. And now her baby was all grown-up and almost done high-school. This was the first time she'd ever been alone with Jim so far away from home without any of the Bob-Whites around. And Trixie was seventeen. The large part of her trusted her daughter and Jim but the smaller, less prominent part wonder _what if?_ She herself had fallen into the trap when she was sixteen, and she had no idea how Honey and Diana were faring against the temptation of hormones mixed with human nature. Especially with, she'd admit with a degree of motherly pride, the handsome boys they would have to resist.

She looked fondly at her youngest child, still years away from all of that. She reached across and ruffled his hair, something that he looked curiously up at. He rolled his eyes. "I'm done my san-wich. Can I go now?"

Helen looked long and hard at him, a look she'd perfected over the years. "What are you going to do?"

He squirmed under his mother's discerning gaze. "'Sploring."

"What are you exploring?" she asked again, determined to get an answer this time.

He didn't answer, avoiding her gaze until he finally gave in. "I'm 'sploring Trixie's room. She's got so much cool junk in there."

Helen shook her head in exasperation. "My goodness Bobby. How many times do we have to tell you not to look in your sister's things?"

Bobby shrugged. "I guess I forgotted."

Reluctantly, Helen walked up the stairs to her daughter's room and saw the door slightly ajar. She pushed it open gingerly and walked in, wanting so much to collapse when she saw the mess. The bed was a misshapen lump; Bobby had evidently been jumping on it. The book shelf at least looked untouched, but the dresser was another story. Her bed-side table had been ransacked, and what was evidently a diary lied on the bed. Drawers had been opened, and the whole room seemed upside down.

Bobby seemed to have no qualms, though. He walked into the room, running to the pile of things beneath one of Trixie's drawers. He picked up a long, cylindrical object that made Helen's face pale. "Look at this thing!" he exclaimed, beating the feminine item on the wood of the dresser. "Trixie's got a whole pile of 'em. I wanted to take some 'cuz I losted my drumsticks and they make such a cool sound."

Snapping out of her horror, Helen rushed forward and yanked the tampon out of Bobby's hand. "Don't touch those, Bobby," she said, voice flustered, picking up the rest of them and shoving them into a drawer.

"What are they, even?" he asked, bewildered at his mother's reaction.

"Oh, nothing," she said sweetly. "Just something for girls."

Bobby made a face. "Like lipstick n stuff?"

Helen nodded meekly. "Something like that."

Bobby shrugged. "Whatever." He scratched his head. "Hey Moms, is Jim a Missus or a Mister?"

Helen looked strangely at her son. "Well, a mister of course. Why do you ask?"

Bobby picked up a coloured book from his sister's bed. "I thought Jim was a mister too, but Trixie wrote 'Missus Jim Frayne' in her diarrhea in with all these weird red hearts around it, and—"

Helen snatched the diary away from him. "Bobby, first of all, this is a diary, not a diarrhea. And second, you're not supposed to be reading your sister's private things."

Bobby blinked innocently, noticing that his mother was trying not to get angry. "I'm sorry, moms. I won't do it again." He ducked his head, looking up through his thick golden lashes.

Helen shook her head and sighed. "It's okay, dear. But don't do it again." She looked at all the mess around her. "Could you go get Mart, please, Bobby?"

"Sure, Moms," he said lazily. He lumbered out of the room.

Helen put a hand on her forehead, letting a small laugh escape her mouth. She had been wondering when she'd have to explain what the accursed feminine tube was to Bobby. She'd been through it with all her children, but thankfully Bobby had asked the least questions.

"Yeah, Moms?" an older voice said from the door.

Helen turned around, looking at Mart disapprovingly. The blond, rubbing sleep from his eyes, looked around the disheveled room sheepishly. "Oh."

"Oh is right," she said, gesturing around her. "I'm sorry to disrupt you from your nap, which you wouldn't need if you actually slept last night," she said pointedly, causing Mart to flush gracefully, "but the little sibling you were supposed to be watching has ransacked your sister's room, and I'm sure she doesn't want to come home to this mess."

Mart scratched his head. "You want me to clean this up, don't you?"

Helen nodded. "Please, if you don't mind."

Mart sighed. "All right, Moms." He entered the room and started to work, picking up the things Bobby had strewn across the floor.

Helen left the room, about to go downstairs, but the sight of Mart's disheveled bed reminded her of something. "Mart," she called back, looking at her son.

"Yeah, Moms?" He rubbed his tired eyes again.

"You might want to consult with Mr. Lynch before you and Diana decide to take it any further."

Blood flooded into Mart's face and he nodded meekly.

Helen smiled at him tiredly before walking back downstairs. _And now to do the dusting._


	8. Brian's Problem

Another chapter! I hope you enjoy it, this is a Brian/Honey chapter, as after the last chapter I featured with them I've been rather interested in their relationship. I hope this shows you some of the human feelings they've been experiencing. **Please check out my poll on my profile. Thnx- Every vote counts!**

* * *

Brian had a problem. You see, he was sitting in the deserted clubhouse, trying to get some work done. He just had a paper due- he was already done most of it, but he just needed to finish a few paragraphs. The think was, he couldn't do it. Not because he didn't know what to do, but because whenever his fingers touched the keys of his keyboard in an earnest attempt to get work done, his mind filled with the thoughts of one person, and he had to put a hand on his head to keep it from exploding.

Honey. Oh, God. He'd like to say that his thoughts were pure and innocent, perhaps wondering how her big project was going, but then he'd be lying. Big time. All he could think about whenever he tried to clear his mind was the way her body felt pressed against his last night, almost bare, just a few thin layers of fabric separating her skin from his. He so badly wanted to touch her, to feel her soft bare skin under his hands, but he knew he couldn't have as much as he wanted. And he wanted all of her. Hey, he was a twenty year old male, okay? He was allowed to have those thoughts once in a while.

Except now, he wasn't satisfied with any other thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to tamper down his desire. The only cure would be to touch her, but he knew that that wasn't possible at the moment. Sure he'd seen her after breakfast when she stopped by to give something to Moms, but then they'd had a brief and awkward meeting, skirting guiltily away from each other. Now, she and Di were locked up in Honey's room, and if Brian barged in there just to lay hands on her smooth, warm skin… Stop it Brian. He repeated it to himself a few times, looking determinedly at his document. He read the last line over a few times, to try and figure out what to type next, but the words just travelled through one ear and out the other. His body betrayed him and he minimized the document, his eyes floating hungrily over his desktop background- a picture of the girl he couldn't get out of his mind. It was an innocent picture, sure, of her laughing. It was actually part of a larger picture including Trixie and Di, but they were no use to Brian and therefor cropped out of the picture. As he gazed at her, his eyes, which were darker than normal, managed to process the picture differently than he normally would- he focussed on her smooth skin, her full lips, her honey hair tumbling down her shoulders, and then his eyes floated downward… It was no use. He needed a break.

Sighing, he saved his work; four new sentences in total, and closed his laptop. He exited the toasty clubhouse and walked into the chilly three-o'clock spring air towards the Wheeler's house, just to hear a cheerful whistling coming towards the clubhouse. When the orchestrator of the tune came into view, Brian ended up coming face to face with Dan.

"Hey, Brian," Dan greeted, looking rather happy.

"Hi, Dan," Brian answered, not sure whether to be relieved or uncomfortable meeting another person. He was worried his thoughts would show. "Heading to the clubhouse?"

"Yeah. I came to look for you, actually. Honey and Di wanted to take a break from their homework. I came to tell you we planned to go to the lake and I need help getting the skates, even though we probably won't be able to use them."

Sadly, the only thing Brian had really heard was 'Honey wanted to take a break', and from there all logical thought had seized. "Is that so?"

"Yup. The girls are bringing hot chocolate and s'mores, and Mart's already by the lake starting a fire."

Brian was confused for a second before the pieced floated together. Thankfully, he was smart enough to be in med school, so he was smart enough to save himself from embarrassment. And so he followed Dan silently to the clubhouse, wondering how the next few hours were going to go.

* * *

As he and Dan walked away towards the lake, Brian could feel his every molecule heating up, a phenomenon fully caused by the knowledge that he was closer to Honey with every passing step. The problem was that he didn't know what he'd do when he saw her. The boyish, desire-struck part of him wanted to run up to her, gather her into his arms, and strip every article of clothing off her perfect figure. But the sensible part of him chided such thoughts. Still. He knew it would take no small amount of self-control to prevent him from engaging in not so drastic measures, like kissing her till they both fell over. It would be especially hard to not let his emotion show, which was necessary considering that they had company. Company that would abuse him mercilessly if they knew what was going on in his testosterone driven cranium.

When they arrived at the clearing, Brian was disappointed yet relieved that Honey and Di weren't there yet. Mart, however, was, and he had created a praiseworthy fire that crackled and emitted a comforting heat. Dan and Brian dawned on their gloves, hats and scarves.

While waiting for the females, the boys stood at the edge of the lake and tested the ice. Just as they thought, it was evidently too melted to attempt standing on, much less skating. The weather had been very warm the last week, and despite the cold spell that that frosted the countryside over that night, the ice was as unstable as ever.

"That sucks," Dan said. Everyone knew that Dan was one of the most avid skaters amongst the Bob-Whites. "We get stuck with the crappy weather and we don't even get the ice."

Mart and Brian agreed. It was colder now at the end of March than it had been since February- the grass had been frosted over and the air had a stinging quality to it. The boys ended up needing to huddle around the roaring fire for heat. After a few minutes, the boys heard laughing around the corner, and for two of the males, the sight of the girls coming around the corner caused them to grin impishly.

Dan rolled his eyes.

As they approached, Brian's eyes zoomed into the view of one of the girls, and he forgot to wipe his expression clean. Oh, Honey. Her shoulder length honey-brown hair was just as perfect as always, framing her flushed face perfectly from under her creamy white toque. Brian remembered how her face was flushed almost the same way last night, even though now it was just because of the cold. Her jacket, zipped up over her tall, slender figure, was thick enough to keep her warm but thin enough to show off her perfect curves. Her nose was a little red and her lips… Brian forced his eyes away.

When the girls reached, and after saying hi, most of them rather awkward, the girls dished out hot chocolate while Mart got to work on making his s'mores. While Mart, Di and Dan were engaged in a loud conversation, Brian saw his chance. He grabbed Honey around the waist from behind, spinning her around so her chest was flush with his. Surprised, Honey looked up and her handsome boyfriend, whose eyes were focussed intently on her.

"How are you?" he asked quietly, bringing his forehead to rest on hers.

She smiled, head swimming as their breaths mingled, hot despite the cold outside. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good now that you're here." And he wasn't joking.

Honey flushed gracefully. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. It's the truest thing I've said all day." Despite himself, his eyes travelled down her face disloyally, resting on her lips. She hid her smile.

Just before he was about to do it himself, she fit her lips against his, wrapping her thinly gloved hands around his neck.

Brian's head sang. He pressed closer to her, causing her to gasp slightly before meeting his enthusiasm with her own. It seemed like both of them completely forgot that they were outside in the cold, that their friends were standing a few meters away.

From the corner of his eye, something caught Dan's attention. He stopped whatever he had been saying, gesturing to Di and Mart to turn around. The all exchanged knowing smiles as they watched Honey and Brian, arms wrapped around each other and faces attached.

Mart and Dan, both thinking the same thing, exchanged a two-second look that decided everything. Both of them, leaving Di to wonder what was going on, walked to the pile of un-melted snow beside the boathouse and clumped together a few roughly-fashioned snowballs.

Di's eyes widened, but when Mart winked and passed her a snowball, she didn't protest. They all took aim, each from a different side of the couple, and when Dan silently signalled, they each threw the snowballs and Honey and Brian, who were still engaged in a passionate lip-lock.

When the couple felt the dull smack of something hitting their jackets, they broke apart, confused. When they looked around and saw their friends' grinning faces, they blushed.

"You may not have chosen the wisest of places for your make-out session," Dan commented grinning, tossing a snowball idly up and down.

Brian narrowed his eyes at the other dark-haired member of the Bob-Whites. "You're getting it, Mangan," he said, already bending down at one of the spots of snow that hadn't melted yet.

"You're on."

And so Honey and Brian fought against their friends, laughing and chucking chunks of ice around until Mart accidently hit the fire, and they were reminded of the s'mores that had been wrapped but not cooked.

And so they called it quits, faces red and smiles wide as they sat around the fire. As everyone was handing around the warm, toasted packages of chocolate, biscuits and marshmallows, Brian leaned in and whispered in Honey's ear. "Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Honey chuckled slightly, giving him a small peck on the lips. "Nice try, babe."

Brian shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Laughing, Honey rested her head in his shoulder. "Maybe later," she whispered.

Brian took it a promise.


	9. Life's So Unfair

So this is one of the chapters that most deals with the plot of the story. I know that we all just want a lovey-dovey story fill with smush and fluff, and this story is. But it also deals with our beloved Bob-Whites growing up, and the human feelings they are having along the way. Enjoy!

-A

* * *

"Ugh!" Honey moaned, falling back against her bed. "Life is so unfair."

Brian smiled at her amusedly. He gently lifted her head, repositioning it onto his lap. "What's the matter?"

Honey looked up at him, trying for a smile. "Well, first of all, I have a stupid project that's never going to finish, and so I won't get to spend any time with you, and then you'll…" She sighed, fading off. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "How do you put up with me?" she asked, turning to her boyfriend.

"Gladly," he smiled, putting his hands on her shoulders from behind. Brian gently rubbed his fingers into her the knots of her neck as she sat at the edge of the bed. "Wow, Hon. You're really tense. What are you so stressed about?"

Honey sighed before answering. "I don't know," she said lamely. "I guess it's just school, and the fact that we're all getting older, and soon…"

Brian looked at her knowingly as she turned around to face him. "I think you just don't want to grow up."

She gave him a small smile. "I guess you're right." She frowned, thinking of something, but then tried to hide it.

Brian didn't buy it. "What else is it, Honey?"

She shrugged. "It's nothing, I…"

"You what?"

Honey shook her head.

Brian took her hand in his. "Come on, Honey. You know you can tell me anything." He looked at her with his deep brown eyes, the ones that melted her heart into a pool and left her groveling at his feet.

She sighed, relenting. "I keep worrying about us. I mean, I'm seventeen, and you're twenty, and I always think that you'd want someone older and more mature and—"

Brian's lips on hers silenced her. Coming out of her shock, she wrapped her arms around his neck as her tongue begged for entrance.

Her head fell backwards onto the thick covers at the foot of the bed, feeling the pressure of his supple form as they kissed each other.

After a minute, Brian broke away. "Please don't tell me you meant that," he said, looking into her hazel eyes.

"Meant what?"

"Meant that part about me wanting to be with someone else."

Honey sighed. "I just can't help but think that I'm so young and that you're older and that there are things that you want that you know you can't get from me, and…"

"What kind of things?" Brian asked hoarsely, nose brushing hers.

Honey blushed. "Oh, you know," she said quietly.

"You mean sex?"

She nodded slowly.

Brian kissed her softly. "So you think that my hormones are raging so badly that I won't be able to contain my emotions enough to stay faithful to the girl I love most?"

Honey looked at him, her eyes sparkling. "You make me sound so absurd."

He trailed kisses down the side of her face. "You're not absurd."

She turned her face away from his lips. "So you mean you're not just staying with me because you're too kind to leave me for someone older?"

Brian's eyes bore into hers. "Why would I do such a stupid thing?" He rested his forehead against hers. "There's no one I want to be with beside you. And if you don't know that then…" He didn't finish.

"Then…"

He chuckled a little, mirthlessly. "Then I obviously need to find a way to show you."

And with that, he kissed her, harder than he'd ever kissed her before, so it felt like their every molecule was joining in the same rhythm, moving to the beat of one heart that was actually two.

Her legs wrapped around his abdomen, drawing his torso closer. He gasped, flipping them both around so she was on top, feeling every inch through their sweaters and jeans.

When they paused to breath, Honey looked into Brian's eyes and was shocked to see how dark they were. His pupils dilated, and his rich brown eyes were so full of passion it almost scared her as much as something else. Looking into his eyes, they both exchanged a nervous look as they both felt it. Brian turned away, closing his eyes. Her mouth sat slightly open against his warm cheek, and they were both still as they lay in that same position. Honey was shocked as she felt him, and she was finally introduced to the extent of his hormones.

Brian groaned. "Honey," he said, his voice dangerously low, "You need to get off of me right now."

Honey's face showed puzzlement. But, as she was feeling as aroused as he was, she didn't get off. Instead, she pressed down against him, her lips seeking out his.

Brian's control was sitting precariously on the edge. As he felt her entire being on top of him and felt her core willingly pressing against him he almost couldn't stand it, and if it weren't for the loud knock on the door he might've decided to let his responsibility rot alongside his virginity.

As it was, it took both his and Honey's willpower to pry themselves away from each other, just in time for Honey's hoarse voice to call "Come in."

When Miss Trask opened the door and saw Honey and Brian, sitting not even inches away from each other at the tip of the bed and facing the door, she had a double take. She'd never seen that look in their faces before- the desire so unquenched and raw that she almost wanted to shut the door, as if they were both lying there naked in each other's midst.

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

_With the perfect timing,_ Brian thought, extremely relieved, now that he was in a state of sobriety. "No, you didn't interrupt." He tried for a smile.

A strange look still on the governess's face, she continued. "I just got a call from your mother, Brian. She wanted to know if you were going to be going home for dinner. She said she hopes so." She smiled. "But you're more than welcomed here, as always."

Brian smiled gratefully. "Um, thanks Miss Trask. I'll head over there soon. Thanks for the invitation, though."

"You're always welcome." She smiled before closing the door soundly.

As soon as the hinges creaked shut, Brian collapsed backward onto the bed. Honey scrambled beside him, face hovering over his.

"Oh God, Honey." He closed his eyes, at least thankful that the blood had receded from where it had previously decided to take occupancy. "That was bad. Really bad."

Honey pouted a little. "You didn't like it?"

Brian rolled his eyes, trying not to press her against him like she'd been before. "That's the problem. I did like it. I liked it way too much." He put a hand on his forehead, looking begrudgingly into her innocent eyes. "I almost lost it, Honey," he said earnestly.

She smiled slightly, climbing back on top of him. He grit his teeth. "Lost what?" she asked, breath tickling his nose.

"My control, my dignity…" _My virginity._

She kissed him lightly. "I doubt that."

He rolled his eyes. She still didn't get it, did she?

He looked seriously up into her eyes, noticing how vulnerable he was below her. _She can kiss me all she wants and I wouldn't be able to stop her._ But, in all fairness, he probably wouldn't be able to stop her anyway.

"Listen, Honey, you don't understand." The words came out harder than he realized, and he mentally hit himself when she got up, her expression hurt.

"Hon, I didn't mean that."

She crossed her arms. "So you don't think that I'm a little girl who doesn't understand."

Brian rolled his eyes, leaning in close to her. "Of course not. That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" She sounded exasperated. "I knew I was right. You're older and you'd want someone older and—"

Again, she was silenced by his mouth on hers. "Stop saying that," he said, his voice low. He cupped her face with his hands, pushing her slowly onto her back. "I don't want someone older. I don't want someone younger. I don't want anyone but _you_, Honey." He pressed his nose against hers. "I know you think that I want someone older, and that I don't think of you like that, but you couldn't be more wrong. I'm going to tell you this, and I'm only going to say it once." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I do want someone like that. The thing is, that person is you. You don't know how many thoughts I've had of you." He flushed, thinking of earlier. "The only person I've ever lusted for is you, Honey." He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. "Like that thing that happened earlier?" He reluctantly brought up his erection. "That wasn't something that just happens because I'm at this age, that's something that happens because of _you._"

He was silent, waiting for her response. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see the surprise on Honey's face. "Honestly?" she asked finally.

He nodded slightly. "But I know how to control it, don't worry."

She smiled slightly, leaning up and fitting their lips together. "What if you didn't have to control it?" she asked quietly, looking up at him shyly. She might not fully understand everything, but she understood enough. And she knew that a few minutes ago, in the heat of things, she'd wanted him badly.

Brian shook his head emphatically. "No way Hon. Maybe in a few years, but not now."

She frowned a little bit. "What if you aren't the only one who wants someone like that?"

Brian thought for a long time before he answered. "Then I guess we'll both have to be disappointed."

Honey sighed again. "Life's so unfair," she repeated, except this time, she had a whole new group of things to add to her list.

Brian smiled at little, putting a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "No, I suppose it isn't."

He got up reluctantly, and she followed suit. "I guess I have to go now." He smiled sadly. "See you later, Hon."

"See you later, Brian." She gave him a last lingering kiss before watching as he got up and opened the door, looking at her once before shutting himself out.

* * *

In the dining room, Miss Trask put a hand on her forehead. She was utterly dumfounded. In all her years of governing, she'd experienced so many out of the way things, but none of them compared to this. She knew what to do when Honey had nightmares. She knew what to do when Honey was sick. She knew what to do when Honey was being held hostage, when the house was being burgled, and even what to do when someone was bleeding to death. But the one thing she had absolutely no idea how to deal with when the little girl she was in charge of wanted to have sex with the boy across the street.

She shook her head. She couldn't just call Regan with a shotgun or phone the police. This, she had absolutely no idea how to deal with.

She decided, when hearing the front door close after the object of Honey's affections, that talking would be the only thing that she could do. She needed to talk with Honey. She needed to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Belden. She needed to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler. And she suspected that the Lynches would be involved too. With all of the romantic ties amongst this group of close friends, Miss Trask knew that it was time. With Trixie and Jim in New York together and all the couples within their lover's reach, it was obvious that maybe it was time to talk about it; to have the conversation that everyone needed to have. The children were getting older; they weren't even children anymore. Miss Trask sighed. She'd have to arrange it somehow.


	10. Growing Desires, Eh?

Hey guys. I just have to tell you that this is my favourite story to write, because I love exploring how the Bob-White's deal with their relationships. I wish I had more time to dedicate to it. :)

I also just wanted to ask you guys to check out my poll on my profile page that has to do with this story. Thanks!

-A

* * *

Trixie looked between the two outfits on her bed and frowned. One was simple yet elegant; a creamy white laced skirt ending just above the knee with a silver-grey close-fitting sweater and grey flats.

The other was a dress that ended just above the knee as well. It was dark blue and long-sleeved, and was made of a thin sweater material that showed off all of her curves; and in certain lights it shimmered. It was elegant and yet… sexy. She'd worn it once to an event in Sleepyside that she, Honey and Di had been invited to after they solved a case a few months ago. The _boys_ hadn't been home then, and so Jim hadn't seen her in it. When her mom saw her wearing it, she hid a smile, and Di's jaw almost dropped. Apparently, according to Honey, Di and Miss Trask, she looked drop-dead gorgeous, and she hadn't worn it since. But now… It took a split second decision, but finally she made up her mind. She knew which one she would wear.

Trixie didn't believe in putting on make-up, partly because she didn't have the time. But, if Honey or Di were to apply it, she'd let them, even if she'd never found the skill to do it herself. Her hand always shook when she tried applying eye-liner, and her fine blonde lashes didn't take well to mascara. However, lip-gloss was never out of the question, even if the powder stuff was.

Just as she slipped her shoes on, there was a knock on her door. She gave herself a once-over in the mirror, and then, satisfied, opened the door. Her heart fluttered when she laid eyes on him, as it always did. He was neat and handsome as always- impeccably dressed yet not overdone, his thick red hair was brushed to perfection, and she just wanted to run her hands through it like she'd done so many times before.

She may or may not have noticed, but upon the sight of her, his eyes shone, and his face lit up like it does only when you see your most beloved. The sight of her in that dress drove his mind into a fuzzy, dreamy state, and yet he was hyperaware at the same time. He saw the way it clung to her curves, showing off the figure he thought was absolutely perfect- not too tall but not too short- just perfect enough that she fit comfortably against his chest as if she was meant just for him. She was delicate yet strong— just like her personality. And she was his. It made his heart race.

Once they were done with the shy, admiring looks that had never seized since their first date, he cleared his throat, giving her one of his lopsided grins. "Hey, Shamus," he said quietly.

She had to stop herself from grinning also. "Hey, Jim." She flipped the lights of the room off, shutting the door and gratefully taking his hand as they walked towards the elevator, smiling as he planted a solid kiss on her cheek.

She didn't even need to ask where they were going when they got into his car. Whenever they were in New York, they always went out together to the same place. Donatello's was one of New York City's hidden gems. It was a small, well-decorated place that had seen visits some of the world's top diplomats and celebrities. Owned by an Italian family, few people knew about the fabulous restaurant that boasted the best eggplant parmesan in all of North America. Donatello's was always Jim and Trixie's place. The owner, Niccolo Donatello, knew them by name, and being the stubborn Italian man he was, always added a five dollar discount despite Jim's protests.

When they entered the dimly lit, cozy restaurant, the waitress led them to their seats with the customary warm politeness that everyone expected when they entered Donatello's. When the menu was handed out, they didn't need to look at it, but they did anyway.

Once they'd decided and placed their orders, which they didn't even need to think twice about, Jim's hands reached across the table and took Trixie's. She smiled at him, rubbing small circles at the back of his rough, well-worked hands, which contrasted remarkably with her pale, dainty ones that didn't look like they'd been in the situations they'd had.

Jim was about to open his mouth when Trixie's expression changed and he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, hi, Jimmy," a high voice chirped, and he turned around to see a familiar brunette behind him.

He looked awkwardly between the girl and Trixie, who, thankfully, didn't look too taken aback. "Um, Trixie this is—"

"Valerie," the pretty girl supplied, extending a perfect pink-nailed hand in Trixie's direction. The blonde took it, her face so polite and gracious that Jim was almost speechless. "I'm Jimmy's lab partner."

Trixie smiled at the tall science major, quickly noticing her perfect hair and low cut blouse.

Jim spoke. "Er, this is Trixie, my girlfriend."

Valerie laughed, her white teeth shining, the sound tinkling and pleasant. "Oh, the one from home? Jimmy's told me so much about you. It's great to finally meet you."

Trixie smiled back. "You too."

"Well, it was nice meeting you. I'll see you in class next week, Jimmy." She flashed him a brilliant smile, taking her slender fingers off Jim's shoulder with a final tap.

When she was gone, Jim met Trixie's face sheepishly, expecting to receive a pissed-off girlfriend. Instead, Trixie's face shone with mirth, her eyes dancing with laughter.

Jim exhaled in relief, taking her hand across the table. "God that was terrifying. Sorry, Shamus."

Trixie raised a thin eyebrow. "The one from home?" She shook her head, hiding her smile. "She said it like you have one everywhere."

Jim blushed to the roots of his hair. "I have the same one everywhere." He gave her a small, shy smile. "You're not mad, are you?"

Trixie smiled at the concerned red head. "For her having those manicured fingernails all over you?"

"I'm surprised you didn't rip my head off. Or hers."

Trixie frowned at him. "I'll have you know, James Frayne, that I can be very good at holding my temper. I'm not fourteen anymore."

His brain, which wasn't always honorable when it came to a certain Ms. Belden, made a short list of the ways that Trixie had changed since she was fourteen. Even though one could say that she changed mostly mentally and emotionally, his nineteen year old mind came up with numerous physical characteristics.

Trixie hid a smile of feminine satisfaction. She knew that look. It was the same look she'd received on many occasions when his mind wasn't in a respectable state.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about," Jim said, squeezing her hand. "I kind of have a thing for curly blondes."

Trixie blushed, her heart racing.

"Especially the kind that always manages to get into trouble." Jim smiled mischievously.

Trixie raised an eyebrow, talking quietly so only he could hear. "You mean like the kind of trouble we were getting into this afternoon?"

She received a lopsided grin. She couldn't help thinking about how much she wanted to kiss him when their appetizers were served.

* * *

Trixie laughed as Jim swung her around, the sky a blanket of stars and the New York air crisp and cool.

People watched as they walked past the couple along the pavement, small smiles on their faces as the handsome redhead gathered the pretty blonde in his arms. _Young love_, a woman thought with a sigh, her arms full of shopping bags as she clicked open her car.

Jim pressed his nose against Trixie's, grinning at her. "Wanna go back to the apartment?" he whispered, his breath tickling her skin.

Trixie turned her face as he leaned in, his kiss sliding to the side under her ear. "Yeah," she said, hiding her smile as she felt his disappointed sigh. "We should watch a movie."

Jim raised an eyebrow, drawing her in closer with the arms around her waist. "A movie?"

"Mhm," she mumbled against his cheek. "What else would we do?"

Jim gave her a grudging smile. He loved it when she played coy, but like any male, it drove him crazy. "A movie it is, then." He tried again for a kiss, but Trixie expertly manoeuvered herself from his grasp before he could plant it. "Hey," Jim protested as she walked away to the passenger's side of the car. She shot him a mischievous grin before ducking into the black vehicle.

Jim shook his head, smiling to himself as he got into the car. He put the keys in, but didn't start the engine. "Trix," he said gravely, "we have a problem.

She tried to keep her expression somber. "What is it, Jim?"

He heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head with regret. "If you don't kiss me right now, I won't be able to stop myself from inadvertently driving as fast as I can until we reach the apartment, which will be hazardous. "

Trixie smiled to herself, always speechless when it came to the amount of control she had over him. "That must be some movie you're looking forward to watching," she said, and when she looked at him, he didn't answer. All he did was give her one of his signature lopsided grins, the grin that melted down to her toes. She leaned in, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pressing her lips firmly to his.

And needless to say, they didn't reach the apartment for a while.

* * *

Matthew Wheeler looked at his wife skeptically. "Did she really say _that_?"

Madeleine nodded. "Helen said that she and Marjorie had a long conversation about it and found that it was something that needed to happen."

"But honey, don't you think that that's a bit unreasonable? Our kids are all perfectly responsible enough to make the right decisions. I'm sure that—"

"Matthew," Madeleine appealed, "They're teenagers. Do remember how old we were?"

Matthew shrugged, thinking back to when he and his wife were sixteen and eighteen. "But we weren't as well-supported and self-motivated as these kids are, Maddie. You've seen the things they've been through. You don't think that they'll be able to sort out their emotions at least long enough for them to get married?"

Madeleine gave her husband a look of feminine wonder. How men could be so stupid she'd never know. "Honey, how old is Mart?"

He rolled his eyes. "Seventeen."

"And Jim?"

"Nineteen."

"Brian?"

"Twenty. So what?"

Madeleine gave an exasperated sigh. "So they're at the age where things happen, Matthew! How many twenty year old men out there are still virgins, do you think?"

Matthew's face turned red, his redheaded temper flaring. "Okay, but how many twenty year old men are dating seventeen year olds?"

His wife sighed, realizing that her husband didn't take well to being aggressive. "Sweetie, what's the harm in talking to them about it? If they're as responsible as you think than it will just be a refresher. But I think that it will let them know where we stand on this whole topic."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "And where _do_ we stand on this topic?"

_So that's what it is,_ Madeleine thought, realizing what the problem was. Her husband just didn't want to face it. He had no idea what he thought about the whole issue, even though his wife already knew his opinion for him. "Honey, what do you think about Jim and Trixie's relationship?"

"Well," Matthew said slowly, "I think that they are well-suited for each other and obviously care about each other very much. And I think that whatever lines they are allowed to cross have to be discussed by Helen and Peter."

Madeleine smiled, realizing she had already won the argument. "So then you believe that it is up to us where Honey's relationship goes and the Lynches can decide about Diana?"

Matthew nodded. That's the way it made sense.

"So…" Madeleine said, popping open a cold bottle of Perrier and handing it to her husband, who was sitting on the sofa. "What lines do you think Honey and Brian should be allowed to cross?"

Mathew eyed his wife suspiciously. "I know where you're going with this, Madeleine, and I'm telling you now that I'm not buying it."

Madeleine sat down on the couch beside her husband, grabbing his large hand. "Honey, I'm just trying to find what's right for our kids." She spoke earnestly. "And the Beldens, Dan and Diana are as much are children as Honey and Jim. I want the best for all of them."

Matthew sighed, brushing his wife's straight brown hair behind her ear. "I don't know, Maddie. Whenever I think of Jim I remember what I felt when I was that age. But when I think of Honey, I also think of Brian, and then…"

His wife smiled knowingly. Matthew and Peter were the same when it came to their daughters. But then again, weren't all fathers? She placed a comforting hand on her husband's thigh. "What do you think you would do if it were Peter and Helen in New York with Brian and Honey?"

Matt's face turned red just thinking about it. "If that boy lays a hand on my daughter, then—" He was interrupted by his wife's laughter.

"Oh, Matthew, you are too much." She shook her head, her eyes glittering with amusement. "I don't mean to upset you, dear, but I'm sure that they've all laid more than a hand on each other. And it's not just Honey and Brian you have to think about." She smiled ruefully at her husband. "I think you know what goes behind closed doors, Matthew. You just need to face that our little girl is growing up."

Matthew Wheeler sighed heavily. "But I don't want to face it, Mads. I just want to remember the times when they were all young and Honey was happy and—"

"Honey _is_ happy, remember?" She patted his leg sympathetically. "It's you who's not happy."

"Yes, but what if she isn't? What if she doesn't want to get that far in her relationship, and Brian is just—"

"Dear?" She squeezed his shoulder. "I thought you said they were all responsible and able to make their own decisions."

Her husband leaned his head back against the sofa. Neither of them spoke for a while, both thinking of their children and how much they were all growing up.

Finally, Matthew spoke. "How come you're the one who's making all the sense? Why are _you_ so calm about all this?"

Madeleine's mouth tilted up, her thin eyebrows lifting. "I'm a woman, hon. I'm better at picturing the situation from _all_ sides."

She received a tired smile. "Oh yeah?"

Madeleine nodded.

"So what are our children thinking?" He looked at her so sincerely that she couldn't help but answer honestly.

"They're trying to make the right choice that they think will make us happy and be better for their futures. Even if that means trying their hardest to fight their growing desires."

"Growing desires, eh?" Matthew scratched his head, trying hard to imagine his daughter and her boyfriend in that position. Sadly, or maybe not so sadly, his paternal mind couldn't conjure such thoughts about his innocent daughter. His son, though, well… that was another matter. He could see what his wife was saying, to some degree at least.

After a long thought and a large sigh, he asked, "So when does she say this meeting is going to take place?"

He received a satisfied smile. _I win_, Madeleine thought. She looked slyly towards her husband, her hand travelling up his thigh.

And, well… I think that's where all usefulness in this conversation seizes, and so we'll just wait until next time to see how our friends fare with their emotions. (Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler are evidently a lost cause that requires no more observation.)


End file.
